The Pilot
by BookButterfly11
Summary: What if Jonas hadn't been Selected? What would his Assignment have been? Who would have been Selected in his place? Most of all, what would life be like in the community? What would be different? Well, for starters, in our world, there wouldn't be The Giver. But the society described is still an interesting concept...
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, guys! Welcome to…*drumroll* THE PILOT, a Giver-based fanfiction by BookButterfly11! YAY! This story begins as the Ceremony of Twelve commences, on the second day of Ceremonies. I apologize if the characters are a little OOC. Please bear with me, as this is my first Giver fanfic—my first fanfic for anything other than PJO, actually. Those of you who have read my other stories know I am prone to really long author's notes. I'll try to avoid that. We'll see how well it works out…Anyways; I like reviews, but don't feel pressured to review…I may or may not respond to reviews in A/N's, that tends to make them really long, and try to keep the author-bashing to a minimum, 'kay? Oh! Disclaimer: I don't own the Giver. ****L**** Uh…anything else? Nope, I think I covered all the bases. And so, without further ado, I present to you…THE PILOT! Enjoy!**

Chapter One

_Then, at last, the Chief Elder called Number One to the stage, and the Assignments began..._

_Eighteen, Fiona, on his left, was called. Jonas knew she must be nervous, but Fiona was a calm female. She had been sitting quietly, serenely, throughout the Ceremony._

_Even the applause, though enthusiastic, seemed serene when Fiona was given the important Assignment of Caretaker of the Old. It was perfect for such a sensitive, gentle girl, and her smile was satisfied and pleased when she took her seat beside him again._

_Jonas prepared himself to walk up to the stage when the applause ended and the Chief Elder picked up the next folder and looked down the group to call forward the next new Twelve. He was calm now that his turn had come. He took a deep breath and smoothed his hair with his hand…_

"Nineteen," he heard her voice say clearly. "Jonas."

Jonas rose, relieved. For one second he had had the odd feeling that the Chief Elder hesitated, as if she was not sure about calling Jonas to the stage. But that was ridiculous. Of course she would call him. He had to be Assigned.

Jonas walked carefully up the stairs, glancing briefly at the hushed audience. He crossed the stage to stand next to the Chief Elder, who smiled reassuringly at him.

"We all know and appreciate Jonas," the Chief Elder started. "From the time he was a very small child, Jonas has always been a compassionate, observant member of the community.

"The committee has, as always, taken care to choose the best possible Assignment for Jonas. Ever since he was an Eight and began his volunteer hours, we have observed that while Jonas has expressed a wonderful interest in learning about all the aspects of our community, visiting everywhere from the Fish Hatchery to the Nurturing Center, he always has turned an eye to the sky.

"Jonas," she said, her voice louder and stronger than before. "We have given you the Assignment of Pilot."

She clipped on Jonas's new badge as he stood beside her, feeling confused, though he forced a smile at the cheering audience. He stumbled back to the other Twelves and sat down, as onstage, the Chief Elder spoke once more.

"Jonas," she said warmly, "We thank you for your childhood."

Jonas paid no attention to the next few Assignments. It seemed as if the committee had made a mistake. Why, just earlier Jonas had said he would file an appeal if he got Pilot—and here he was, a Pilot! But that couldn't be right. How could the committee make a mistake? Such a thing had surely never happened before.

_But,_ his mind whispered cunningly to him,_ there was a girl…ten years ago._

Jonas rubbed his forehead, annoyed. Where had that come from? He must have been imagining things. Slightly distressed, Jonas pushed his worries away and focused on the stage.

"Janet," the Chief Elder said to Number Twenty-three, "We thank you for your childhood."

Jonas sat numbly through the next half-dozen called to the stage, his mind still lingering on his Assignment. But as Twenty-Nine exited the stage and the Chief Elder moved directly to Number Thirty-One, Jonas frowned and looked concernedly towards Thirty, a quiet, intelligent female named Abigail. Abigail looked slightly dizzy and clearly was not focusing on the stage. The audience, too, seemed distraught and worried.

Jonas himself was able to draw his attention back to the proceedings, watching silently as Numbers Thirty-One through Fifty received their Assignments and happily returned with new badges.

Finally the Chief Elder looked out at the sea of faces, making eye contact with each and every community member. "I apologize to my community," she said calmly. "I have caused you concern."

The audience answered as one. "We accept your apology."

"Abigail," she continued. "I apologize to you as well. I have caused you anxiety."

"I accept your apology," Abigail replied nervously, twisting her hands together in a shaky pattern.

"Abigail," she said, "Please come to the stage."

Abigail stood and walked up next to the Chief Elder, eyes dropped shamefully to the ground.

"Abigail," the Chief Elder said proudly, "has not been assigned. She has been selected."

The Elder waited for the murmurs to cease. "Abigail, you have been selected to be our next Receiver of Memory."

The Chief Elder smiled at the crowd. "Abigail, this is an honorable Assignment. You have shown all the necessary qualities. Intelligence. Integrity. Courage. Though you have not acquired it yet, the potential for Wisdom. And lastly, a quality that most will not understand. The Giver has it, and he has said that you do as well. It is the Capacity to See Beyond."

Abigail hesitated. "Well…I don't understand it. But I think I do have it. Sometimes I see…something. Maybe it's beyond."

The Chief Elder smiled at Abigail, and Jonas thought he could detect a hint of relief. "Abigail, we thank you for your childhood."

She exited the stage, leaving Abigail alone in the lights.

**Hope you liked it! I decided to end it there; it seemed like a non-choppy, good stopping place. And I know it's not the same as Jonas's selection in the Giver. I wanted to make it different. I hope I did okay! Cheers!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi again! About how often I will post chapters: I don't know, and I won't make any promises, but from my experience, you'll get five or six in about two or three days when I'm on a spree, and I'll do my best to do at least one a week, always. So, yeah—basically, don't have really high expectations for how often chapters will appear. They more likely than not will get crushed. **

**Secondly, though I didn't make note of it, that last chapter, Chapter One, was of course from Jonas's perspective. From here on out I will be switching perspectives, therefore the POV will always be noted at the beginning of a chapter. The POV's may or may not be regular and I might repeat POV's in consecutive chapters. Hope you like it!**

Chapter Two

ABIGAIL

Abigail biked home after the ceremony with her family unit. Her mother rode beside her.

"You've been greatly honored," Mother said.

Abigail frowned. Honored? No, she felt alienated. Cut off. She felt different. It was not a feeling she enjoyed. But she did not tell her mother this.

"Yes," Abigail said briefly. "I have."

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

At home, Father prepared the trays. The family sat down and began to eat. Abigail didn't really think about what she was doing—she didn't think, period.

Unexpectedly she thought of her comfort object. It had been, of course, taken away when she became an Eight. She reached for the anme of it…her mind grasped it and she studied the name under her practical, scientific gaze. _Racoon_. That was it. It was imaginary, of course.

_It could be real,_ her mind whispered.

Abigail almost laughed at the idea. Real? Why would it be real? Of course it wasn't real. That was ridiculous.

"Abigail, are you finished with your meal? Father and I are ready for Feelings," Mother said gently.

"Yes, thank you, I am," Abigail replied, smiling. She cleared her tray, then sat down again.

"Who would like to go first?" Father asked. "Mother? Would you like to start?"

Mother replied, "Yes. Today I felt worried. Number Thirty-Six, a male, isn't doing so well. He has a hard time sleeping, mostly. The head Nurturer asked for his status to remain Uncertain, so he wasn't released, but I'm still feeling troubled about his future."

Father gently reached over and patted her shoulder. Abigail stroked her hair. After a moment, Mother smiled and said, "Thank you. I feel comforted now. Father? What did you feel today?"

Father frowned slightly. "Today, I felt disappointed. One of my students" (Father was an Instructor of Elevens) "isn't completing enough volunteer hours. I felt disappointed that he wasn't doing what he was supposed to do, and I also felt anxious about whether he will be able to become a Twelve on time."

Abigail suggested, "Maybe the student feels apprehensive about what his Assignment will be. Perhaps he is spending time unwisely because he is anxious as well."

Father considered this a moment, nodding. "Yes, that might be it. Thank you, Abigail. And now it is your turn. I know you will have many feelings. We will try to help you."

"Thank you, Father," Abigail said softly. "Today I felt…different." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I felt that my Assignment, even though it is honorable, also _separates _me from my peers and the other Twelves."

Mother spoke. "Abigail, I think that many Twelves are feeling different right now. But it isn't such a bad thing. Of course we all strive for Sameness, but how would anyone get Assigned if we were all exactly the same? We must have some differences."

Now Father spoke. "I remember feeling different as well, Abigail. Nobody else had been Assigned Instructor. I was the only one. My friends, Samson and Fitzroy, both became Nurturers like Mother. Samson, I believe, is head Nurturer. But I do not think you should feel that you are different in feeling different. Everyone has just had their differences recognized. Of course you have been affected by it."

Mother suggested, "Would you like me to adjust your pill dosage, Abigail? It might soothe your unease."

"No thank you, Mother," Abigail said. "I think that I will see how I feel next morning, at Dream-telling."

Mother and Father both smiled at Abigail. "I will go finish my schoolwork now," Abigail said to them, and went to her room. "Thank you," she said as she exited.

**Hope you liked it! Thank you for reading. :)**


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